


The Flood

by lilmissmaya



Series: Fuss and Bother [6]
Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Head Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Memory Loss, More tags when I think of them, Sad, The Flood - Freeform, original hemulen character, poorly researched boating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-06-28 04:49:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19805092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilmissmaya/pseuds/lilmissmaya
Summary: things are going well in moomin valley, until a storm up river bursts a damn and floods the valley. separated by the storm, moomin and snufkin must fight to find their way back to each other and back home.





	1. Chapter 1

Snufkin occasionally got Bad Feelings. It was something he’d gotten from the Joxter, a thing he’d often called Forebodings. It’d served him well out on the road. Here and there, the need to move on, move camp to a different spot. Take one road versus the other. 

The bad feeling was telling him to leave moominvalley.

But it was early summer, the weather was bright, the fishing was good. Moomin and him had been married by surprise and were still enjoying a long honeymoon of sorts. And so he chalked it up to nerves and ignored it. 

If only bad feelings came with specifics. Like waking up to knee-high water in the cottage. 

“This is… less than ideal.” they moved important things to the roof, and now surveyed what they could from there.

“Do you think my parents are okay?” 

“I’m sure they are. Pappa built that house and it’s built to stand up to anything.” 

The water rose, The Joxter woke up in the shade-tree and joined them on the roof, admiring the swirling brown water.

“I missed something.” he commented, rummaging through their basket of apples for his breakfast. “I don’t remember there being water when I went to bed.”

Snufkin… was not liking this situation. It wasn’t about the cottage or the things inside. The mud could be cleaned out, things replaced. The rushing water… watching it made him dizzy and sick. Had he ever told moomin about that time he was washed into a flash flood? He’d told him it’d happened but- there was a tap on his shoulder.

“You okay boy-o? You look green.” the joxter settled next to him with his apple. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”

“I don’t think that’s how it works.” being annoyed was better than being afraid. 

“You’re half mymble. I don’t know how any of that works.” he shrugged, finished up the apple and threw the core into the water.

“I’m not pregnant.” he mumbled, pulling his hat over his eyes. 

“As you say.” joxter gave a shrug and laid down on the roof for a post-breakfast nap. 

Snufkin ate an apple and focused on being annoyed. They would have to paint the inside of the house again, scrub the floors to clean out the mud. The bedding would be ruined. At least they saved the radio and the guitar. When he ran out of things to be annoyed about, he took the guitar to fiddle with it. The sun moved higher in the sky, the water up past waist-height.

“Oh look!” moomin hopped up, “a boat!” indeed, there was a small rowboat floating by, having broke from its moorings upstream.

“The fishing pole, maybe we can hook it and bring it in!” snufkin got it ready, casting once and missing, then casting it again- and the hook dug into the wood. Ha!

It was a bit of a tight fit, the three of them and the most important things they needed.

“What if we see if our big boat is still there?” moomin suggested. “Then we can take it to moomin house and pick up my family?”

It was a plan.

The boat was there, still in good shape. They tied the rowboat to it and headed to the moomin house.

On the horizon, there was the first sign of storm clouds rolling in, heavy and black. The water was getting rougher as the wind started to blow.

A little flooding was no excuse to not have a civilized lunch in the moomin household. The kitchen table was perched on the roof, a cold meal set out. Pappa was examining the horizon with his telescope, as snorkmaiden and Little My nibbled on biscuits and jam. 

“I say! There are the boys! Did you have your lunch yet?” pappa waved to them, as if he’d expected them to arrive all along. 

“I’m sorry there’s no coffee.” Momma handed out food, a good meal needed before any adventure. Indeed, there was cold meat with the biscuits and cheese. “But there is juice. Snufkin, honey, you’re pale, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, momma, I just have a bad feeling about all this.”

“A bad-” she followed his gaze to the oncoming storm clouds. “Oh dear. We better get ready. Pappa, could you get the tarp out? I think we should make some cover and pack up.”

“Aye aye, first mate!” pappa, as always, was excited for an adventure. 

The boat was packed and the tarp tied to make a bit of a tent before the wind kicked up. It was slow-moving storm, having dumped feet of rain upstream, and now blowing into the valley with a hurricane-like fierceness.

Snufkin told himself he was sick to his stomach from motion sickness. Perhaps he was pregnant, which was less terrifying than anything else. (he was in fact, not pregnant. Joxter was merely an idiot and snufkin finding any excuse to not admit being scared.) yes, morning sickness. That’s why his belly was in knots. He would not turn into a panicked mess, cry and cling to moomin in front of everyone (especially Little My would never let him live it down,) over a flood and rain.

The rain hit like a wall, rocking the boat and threatening to swamp it. Joxter and snufkin bailed out water, while moomin and pappa tried to control the rudder and mast line. Poor snorkmaiden huddled under the tarp with moominmomma. 

Little My was having the time of her life.

A gale hit and moomin yelped as the sail line pulled out of his paw. They couldn't let it swing wildly, they need to furl the sail and- Snufkin jumped up to try and catch it-

Everything exploded into white light as the wood beam caught him on the head and over the side of the boat.

“SNUFKIN!” moomin screamed, as the beam cracked against his skull. In slow motion, he saw him fall into the brown water- Joxter grabbed him before he could dive over the side after him.

“No!” he yelled over the rain. “You’ll drown too!” his hair was plastered to his face, eyes bright and intense. 

“But snufkin!” there was no sign of him in the flood waters. He’d gone under so fast-

Joxter pushed him to his mother and helped secure the sail. They had to keep the boat from capsizing, find a place they could tie up the boat until the storm passed. 

The water was icy, shocking him enough to gasp and take in a lungful of water- coughing and choking, he made it to the surface for half a breath before being sucked back under. Something slammed into him, branches, logs- he got his head out for another half-breath- then under again. He flailed, grabbing onto something, but his numb fingers wouldn’t catch hold-

Pulled this way and that, then slammed into another log- it stayed in place, he managed to pull himself half-way out of the water, gagging up lungfuls of water. He needed to… the world tried to tilt and spin around him, something warm dripping down his face. He needed to… he coughed again. Someplace out of the water. 

There was, not that far away, what looked like solid ground. 

He wiped rain out of his eyes, willed his vision to stay steady. He’d have to swim, just a little bit, to the edge- he took a deep breath, coughed, tried again, pushed himself off the log- two, three strong strokes- and his feet touched ground. Blessedly solid ground under his feet. He clambered out of the water, up the bank- 

And the ground rose up to meet him.


	2. Chapter 2

Moomin sobbed into his mother’s fur, inconsolable. Snufkin was gone, it was all his fault! Snorkmaiden was in shock, even Little My was quiet.

“He’s not dead.” the joxter said suddenly. Momma turned to face him, glaring until she saw the look on his face. “I’d know if he was dead, and he’s not dead.”

“Then we have to go look for him!” moomin declared through his tears. The boat rocked and pitched as another gale hit, threatening to tear down the mast and break the rigging. Snorkmaiden shrieked, the wind sucking the sound away.

“Not until the storm passes!” pappa yelled over the wind, grabbing onto the rope. “We need to find a place to ride out this weather! The boat is about to swamp!”

Moomin hiccuped and went to help pappa and joxter secure the boat. If they were right, and snufkin was alive- well, he’d have to trust that he’d be okay, and help keep his family safe first. 

Then he’d go find snufkin.

Some time later, snufkin came around. His head was throbbing, he was face down in wet grass and mud and frozen to the bone.

Rolling over onto his back improved matters some, if only because his face was no longer in the dirt. He… how did he get here? Something about the boat and floods… probably a concussion.

It was tempting to close his eyes and keep laying there in the mud and rain. The cold numbed his injuries- oh but it was a terrible idea to sleep here.   
His vision dipped and swam as he tried to sit up. Yes, he was concussed pretty good. Good job snufkin. You got concussed and fell into the water. Both things he wanted to avoid- good heavens above, moomin was probably beside himself. He better get up and find the family. 

How he was going to do that-

His lungs were raw, he coughed up what he hoped was mud and winced as a broken rib complained. New plan, find someplace warm to dry off and wait out the rain before he came down with something.

His legs were like water as he pulled himself up. Problem. He was concussed, alone in a strange place with no supplies. There were waterproof matches in his tobacco pouch in his pocket, if it hadn’t been swept away, if he could find dry wood and kindling. Shelter first. Worry about the rest later. His head thumped with his heartbeat, and his hand came away bloody when he wiped his face. That is, if his head injury didn’t kill him first. 

He picked a direction and set off. 

He really wasn’t sure what time it was, the rain continuing to pound down. But there was a strip of lighter sky to the east. Close to dawn? 

He leaned against a tree for a rest, too cold to shiver. It didn’t help he was dizzy, it only made his way through the woods even slower. It helped if he closed his eyes, but if he closed his eyes he started to doze- which wasn’t what he needed, no, not the word, what he should do. Was it bad to sleep with a concussion? He couldn’t remember. He wanted his warm little cottage with the wool rug in front of the fire, and moomin’s fur to burrow against. Moomin would make him tea and be delightfully soft and warm. Married life had made him soft, hadn’t he done this same thing many times before? Then again-

He clung to that memory of warmth as he pushed away from the tree and started stumbling through the underbrush again. It’d help if his feet weren’t so numb. 

He nearly ran into the shed before he realized it was there. He couldn’t make a fire inside, but it was out of the rain and wind- he jimmied it opened and stumbled inside. It smelled of dust and mold, but it was half-way warm. He flopped on a pile of old burlap sack and was out in half a breath.


	3. Chapter 3

“He’s in there.” the owner of the shed pointed out to the hemulin police officer. Really, she was quite put out at being called out for this; there was a huge mess with this flooding. Forest folk were washed out, homes were destroyed. Being pulled away for some kid sleeping in a shed wasn’t exactly the highest priority. 

She carefully pulled the door open and gasped. There really was someone in there, curled up on a pile of old gunny sacks. He looked like he’d been dragged through the river, water still dripped from his clothes and hair onto the dirt flood. He was so pale, lips blue- for a long moment she thought maybe he was dead, until he coughed and stirred uncomfortably in his sleep. Oh thank the booble he was alive. 

“Son? Hello?” he didn’t stir, and she shook his shoulder. Lightly, then harder until he opened his eyes. They were unfocused, he looked confused as he sat up. Blood was matted in his hair, half-dried to his face from where he was laying. 

“We need to get him inside, get him dry and warmed up.”

“What? He’s not coming inside my house muddy like that.” she silently counted to ten. The officer was part moomin on her mother’s side, and somehow managed to avoid the sheer bloody-mindedness of other hemulens. There was a tendency in her to help, rather than strict enforcement of rules. Which, of course, got her into more trouble then she’d like. 

She took a deep breath, counted to ten one more time. He needed warmed up as soon as possible, needed a doctor.

“Come on, son. You can’t stay here.” she took him under an arm, helped him to his feet. He swayed, having a hard time staying upright.

“He’s drunk!”

“He’s not drunk, he’s hurt you bloody-ooo! Come on.” with one of his arms over her shoulder, she led him out into the rain. He was icy under her paws.   
The only place she had for him was in the jail. So many people were displaced, she’d been spending all night and day trying to find safe places for them all above the rising water. At least the jail was dry and warm. She stoked up the stove, settled him in front of it. 

“What’s your name, son?” he blinked at her, and she repeated herself, not knowing he couldn’t hear her. 

“Snufkin.” he mumbled, guessing what she was asking. He couldn’t focus enough to read her lips. “I’m… the moomins, moomin valley?” 

“I’ll ask around for them, snufkin. Let’s get you out of those wet things.” she helped him out of his clothes, and into one of her old nightgowns. It was dry and warm, if nothing else. He started shivering as he warmed up, color coming back into his face. Good or bad? She wasn’t sure. He was having a hard time sitting upright, nodding off in the chair.

“Alright, into bed with you. Sorry it’s just the cot in the cell. I’m going to bring the doctor by, okay?”

“Kay.” he mumbled, not understanding a word she said. He let himself be led into a cell, before being well covered with quilts and a hot water bottle to help him warm up. There. She’d find the doctor, he was concussed, frozen and looked half-drowned-

There was a pounding on the door, she was needed again. She sighed, patted her stray kid’s shoulder and shrugged back into her wet coat. Duty called. 

The storm died down, leaving it to just rain steadily outside the boat. The moomins were very quiet. Even Little My was silent, burrowed in momma’s work basket. The joxter sat at the rudder, steering the boat to avoid floating debris and trees as it made its way down the floodwaters. Pappa had his arm around joxter in a gesture of support. Moomin… he didn’t know what to think or feel. If he hadn’t lost his grip on the rope, if they had furled the sails and tied it down earlier-

There were others floating on the flood waters, having lost house and home like they had. They helped who they could, a mousewife and her kits made a temporary home in moominmama’s stock pot, some hedgehogs settled under the bench seat. They asked anyone who passed by if they had seen snufkin.  
No one had seen him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> head injuries are fun.

Snufkin slowly woke some time later. His head throbbed like a creep was pounding the inside of his skull with a hammer. And there was that burning ache in his throat and chest, the warning signs of a cold. He must have gotten too cold and wet- he drifted off again. He was buried up to his nose in quilts and in no mood to leave this cozy nest quite yet. Water, rain, boats… must have been a bad dream. 

he drifted in and out. Time had little meaning. At some point he woke up enough to realize the bed he was in wasn’t quite right. It was narrow, the quilts smelled sweetly of herbs and not of pine. Moomin wasn’t there. 

Part of him, aware that he was hurt and possibly coming down with something, told him to go back to sleep. Worry about this strangeness later. Wherever he was, it was safe and dry.

Dry.

The flood!

He sat up, carefully. Movement made his head throb and the room spin. He… really wasn’t sure where he was or how he got here. He was wearing a nightgown of all things, he was- there were bars across from him and on the windows. What?!

Granted the door out was wide open, and someone had taken the time to make him comfortable- his head hurt. He needed to go find moomin, he’d be worried- and he did not like jails, open doors or not. 

It took longer than he’d’ve like to find his clothes and get them on. The world did strange things, going in and out of focus and spinning around if he moved too fast. What happened? Why did his head hurt so bad?

Better go before the officer came back. No matter how inviting the cot was looking. 

It’d be so much easier if he could chase down his own thoughts. They scattered the moment he tried to pin something down, tried to remember what happened. He had an idea- flooding, the boat, water-but trying to think with any effort made his head pound. He was sure he could figure out where he was and how to get back- he rubbed his eyes, trying to get them to focus. When he got back to the cottage, he was going to sleep for a week. Why did his head hurt so bad?

He made it into the forest, following a muddy path more out of habit than anything. It was still dark, clouds looming low, but the rain had stopped. Where was he?

He found a place to stop and sit, took out his pipe for a smoke. Maybe that would make his head feel better and settle his mind. Chasing his thoughts in circles wasn’t helping. 

It looked like the Lonely Mountain was to his left, shadowed by the clouds. If he headed that way, then headed south, he’d find the pass into moomin valley, right? It sounded right. 

He coughed heavily, hissing at painful ribs and the burn in his lungs. This adventure, whatever it was, was no longer fun. He wanted to be back in his own bed with moomin, before this cough turned into pneumonia once again. Moomin would be upset if it did. 

He pulled himself to his feet, holding onto a tree trunk until the worst of the dizziness passed. It wouldn’t be that long until he was home.

Joxter didn’t eat lunch or supper, a true sign of his grief. He smoked his pipe continually, staring off in the distance, as if he could see where his son was. Moomin didn’t feel much like eating either, how could he? Snorkmaiden snuggled him, rubbing their noses together to comfort him.

“A little water won’t stop him, moomin.”

“I know.” the sound he made when he was hit, the little grunt before he went over the side and into the water- it played over and over his head. He couldn’t sleep, staying curled up with his mother and snorkmaiden, watching the joxter stare over the side of the boat and smoke.

By morning the rain and wind slacked off, and the water was slowing. The sun even started to show it’s face, warming up the boat. Papa saw a village, and folk milling around it, and decided that was a good place to moor up and look for snufkin.

It was better than waiting in the boat, moomin decided. If he could just do something to look for him, instead of thinking about all the awful things-

Snufkin wasn’t sure how long he’d been walking. He’d dozed off against a tree or maybe he had fainted? His head pounded to the point he could barely see. 

It wasn’t helping that the sun had come out, turning the wet ground into steam. The humidity suffocated him, like a wet blanket across his face. Or maybe he was getting a fever. He needed to stop, find some place to hole up until whatever was going on passed. When was the last time he ate? His stomach twisted, nauseated at the thought of food. Maybe an empty stomach was for the best. 

He should have stayed at the jail, a small voice in his head told him. He pushed it aside. 

He found a hollow under a tree, snug and full of dry leaves. It was as good of a place as any. And laying down felt good, exhausted from the effort of staying upright. How was he so cold when the weather was getting so hot? Was it his head, or was it a fever building, was that why he was so dizzy? If only he could think enough to remember what happened. A boat, mud, cold. A strange bed in a… in a… he should be more worried about why he couldn’t remember, but that’d require more energy than he had. 

He drifted off to sleep. 

More forest folk were drifting in, on logs and what was left of their homes. Some were hurt, most were frightened and upset. Many were trying to find their friends and family. The water, still rising, was blocked off from invading the rest of the village homes by sandbags set up by the townsfolk. The officer kept meaning to check on her guest, but there was one thing after another after another. Through the night and into the next day. She’d drank so much coffee she was shaking, but still. What had to be done had to be done. 

Then she spotted the moomins. 

Moominmama was her cousin, they wrote from time to time. (but not nearly enough. She should had visited, made it for that wedding she was invited to. But work. Always work. Maybe she needed a different job, but then who would be doing what she was doing now?) but her spirits lifted when she saw her cousin, safe and sound. What did her stray say? Moomins in moominvalley? If they weren’t the same moomins, they surely would know who!

“Cousin!” Mamma exclaimed, rubbing noses before hugs. “What luck running into you!”

“Oh it is oh it is! I’m so happy to see you! Oh you’re safe!” she was tired enough to be a little loopy, tears welling up. “Cousin, I found this boy-” 

“Snufkin?! You found snufkin?!” moomin grabbed her sleeve, desperate. 

“Oh you know him!” she was so relieved, hugging him to her muddy coat. “He’s at my jail, no he’s not in any trouble, it just happened to be-”

“Is he okay? Can I see him?” he interrupted, almost as teary as she was. 

“Snufkin is my son’s spouse. He was knocked out of the boat during the storm.” Mamma said calmly. She already had plans in her mind. Get her cousin to rest, see to snufkin’s head injury. Soup for everyone. Make sure moomin and joxter rested too. 

“Of course, sweety.” she readjusted her hat, attempted to smooth out her coat. “Let’s go.”

Of course, the cot was empty, the quilts pushed aside and his clothes were gone.

“No, he was just here-” she patted the bedclothes, as if he was just hiding among them. “No, this is not good-”

“Oh he must have ran off when he woke up.” moomin was shedding a cloud of fur, so close and so far. “He hates hemulen jails-”

“He couldn’t have gone too far.” the officer met mama’s calm gaze, long face crinkled up.

“Then we’ll split up and look for him. I’ll tell my husband and the joxter, and we’ll meet at the boat at sundown?”

“I’ll see who else can come look, oh I’m so sorry, I should have-”

“Officer?” moomin tugged at her sleeve again. “Snufkin’s deaf.”

“Oh.” she frowned. “I’ll let them know.”

“Thank you.” he looked like he was about to cry again and she nuzzled him to comfort him. He nuzzled back before running off.

Mamma’s paw was on the officer’s shoulder. “How was he?”

“Confused. He was cold and wet, I wasn’t sure if it was from the bump on the head or just from being chilled so badly…”

“His health… isn’t as good as it should be.” she said, not sure how to put it. “The fever that took his hearing still comes and goes every so often. Better, but not gone.”

“Oh no!” her paws flew to her snout, she should have brought the doctor sooner, she should have stayed with him- she’d never forgive herself is something happened. “I’m so sorry, I should have-”

“No, you did what you could.” she squeezed her paws. “Let’s tell the others, then let’s get you something to eat before you fall over too.”


	5. Chapter 5

If he were snufkin, where would he go? Snufkin, possibly hurt and trying to find a way home… he paced around the jail, then put his nose down. Footprints! He knew snufkin’s well, the boot with the nick out of one heel. The ground was soft, and he followed them easily. They staggered here and there, moomin making good time. His quarry was sick and dizzy, moomin was full of a panicked, nervous energy. He was close, he could feel it, he could smell snufkin’s tobacco! There, the fragrant ash at the base of a stump, it was his! Oh snufkin, how could he get his attention when he couldn’t hear him? it wasn’t something they talked about, why worry about something they couldn’t change?

The footprints kept on their staggered path, stopping more frequently, until-  
There!   
Snufkin was curled up, asleep in a little alcove made by the roots of a tree. He was flushed, feverish looking, but alive!

He could have cried. Instead he reached in, patting snufkin’s cheek. He felt hot under his paw.

Snufkin smiled a little before opening his eyes, unfocused and confused. 

“Moomin?”

“Found you.”

“Hey, what are you doing here?” he asked softly, trying to sit up. He held his head, like the movement and the light made it hurt.

“Looking for you, you fell out of the boat.”

“Boat? Did I? I…” he looked around. “Where are we?”

Moomin’s heart lurched, and he hugged him suddenly, tightly. 

“Ow! Moomin!”

“Oh! Oh!” he left go as snufkin winced, holding his side.

“I think I cracked something.” he coughed wetly, winced, coughed again. “Ow.”

“Can you walk? It’s a few miles back to town.”

“I think so.” he smiled weakly at moomin. He wibbled again, then hugged him again, gentler.

“Let’s go.”

He let moomin guide him back towards town. He was still dizzy, things fading in and out as they walked. He stumbled over his own feet, then stumbled again to be caught by moomin.

“I need to sit-” he mumbled into moomin’s fur. Why were they out here? Where was here? His head thumped, there was this suffocating wet heat to the air and he couldn’t stop shivering. 

His spouse helped him down to the ground, he was very pale under his tan.

“I think you have a fever.”

“A what?” he asked hazily, unable to focus. Moomin nuzzled his face, he was hot to the touch. 

He thought for a long moment, then shifted snufkin to carry him on his back. It wasn’t too much farther, but they’d make better time this way. Snufkin was in no shape to walk. 

The joxter met them outside of the town, nearly collapsing with relief when he saw them. 

“Is he-” he was so limp against moomin’s back, so pale.

“He’s asleep.” moomin said softly, as if he’d wake snufkin up. “He has a fever.”

“He’s alive.” joxter rubbed his forehead against his son’s, close to tears. “Oh thank the booble, he’s alive.”

“Dad?” snufkin mumbled, hardly awake.

“Your mother’s waiting.” the joxter managed, “she’s with the boat.”

She was there, she and pappa helped get him into the boat and under the tarp canopy, out of the sun. his skin was hot and dry, lips cracked, she wetted his face with a cool cloth before examining his head. There was a great bruised lump and a gash where the beam smashed into him, but it had stopped bleeding, and the bone underneath didn’t feel broken. He mumbled a little as she prodded it, but didn’t wake. Joxter and moomin hovered close by. Little my watched from her perch in the ropes, shocked into silence. 

“Snufkin.” she shook his shoulder to wake him up. She’d mixed up a fever powder from her handbag, one that usually worked for snufkin if he popped up a fever. “Snufkin, sweety, I need you to wake up.”

He mumbled and shifted restlessly before opening his eyes. He was too unfocused to read her lips, but drank the bitter liquid offered to him. He was so thirsty, how had he not known this? He drank it down, along with a cup of cold tea. They were talking around him, something about floods, something about… he couldn’t concentrate. He’d go back to sleep and worry about it later. The mousewife helped pull a blanket around his shoulders, hushing her kits. 

Moomin barely slept, listening to the rattle in snufkin’s breathing. Joxter was tucked up against him, arms wrapped around him as if afraid he was going to run off again. Snufkin had been better this spring, stronger- but it was like it was all for nothing. Half drowning- he tossed in his sleep, moaning, and moomin rubbed his back until he settled back into sleep. 

By morning, moomin had managed to doze a bit. Snufkin had color back to his face, although his eyes had that too-bright look he did when he was feverish. 

Snufkin curled up against him as breakfast was served, taking only a few bites before pushing it away. He was queasy, but as long as he didn’t move his head, he felt okay. 

“Moomin, what happened? Did you tell me?”

“The valley flooded.” he spoke slowly, so that snufkin’s battered head could follow. 

“I remember that.” the blankets spread out on the roof, the radio, the guitar. Finding a boat. “Then?”

“There was a storm, the mast pole hit you on the head and knocked you out of the boat.”

“Oh.” there was nothing but a blank spot there. But it made sense, the headache, the lost time. There were just bits of the last couple days, even moomin finding him was hazy. A jail cell, strange quilts, leaves under a tree. “Is everyone okay?”

“Yeah, now that you’re here.”

“‘M sorry, moomin. All this fuss.”

“No, I’m-” he teared up, hugging snufkin close. “I’m sorry!”

“Ow, moomin-” he grunted as the broken rib was released, breaking into a coughing fit. “Ow.”

“Are you okay?” he patted and fretted on his spouse, wanting to comfort him and afraid of hurting him at the same time. 

“Yeah.” there were tears in his eyes as he finally took in a breath. His head was thumping again, he wanted to curl up, try to sleep it off. He should be out there, helping out, not stuck and feeling like an invalid… A paw gently wiped his cheek free of tears. 

“Does it hurt badly? Do you need mama?”

“No, I’m just.. Tired.”

“Sleep then.” he patted his lap. Hesitantly he laid down, head cradled by moomin. Yes, this was where he wanted to be. He slept.


	6. Chapter 6

He was sick of staying in the boat by the next day. At least he could stand up without falling over, that was an improvement. His head felt a little better, or so he told himself. He was going to help pack up, be a little useful. 

Joxter was having none of it.

“What are you doing?” joxter grabbed his arm after finding him trying to sweep out the campfire. “You can hardly stand up!”

“I’m fine.” he wasn’t fine, he knew he wasn’t fine, but he was tired of not being fine. 

His father’s hand cupped his cheek, felt his forehead. “You’re running a fever again.”

“No I just-” he was cut off by a coughing fit, hard and long enough there were black dots on the edges of his vision and a taste of copper on his tongue. His father’s grip on his arm was hard enough to bruise, holding him up. 

“Come on.”

“No-” he was starting to make a scene, but he couldn’t pull away from him. The moomin family, helped by the cousin, was packing for the trip home. The flood waters were receding, it was time to follow it back to the valley, to see what was left of home. Joxter pushed him into the boat, sitting him near one end.

“In. Sit. Stay.” snufkin kept his mouth shut, noticing for the first time that Joxter looked old. There was grey at his temples, lines around his eyes he didn’t remember from before. 

“Joxter-” 

“Damnit, can’t you listen to me for once?!” there was so much worry in his eyes, he looked so tired. 

“Dad, have you slept?” he asked softly. Joxter stiffened, then slumped, rubbing his eyes.

“No, not really.” which was worrying, since sleeping was one of his father’s favorite things to do. Hesitantly, snufkin put his arms around him. He didn’t like to touch like this, but his father seemed like he needed it. Joxter returned the hug, cradling snufkin’s head to his shoulder.

He could feel him sob, his shoulders shaking. 

“Dad…” it felt weird calling him that, but… “why don’t you rest with me?”

Something was mumbled into his hair, but he could feel his father’s shoulders relax. It took a little while, but eventually joxter pulled away and rubbed his face. 

“Yeah.” he said, so that snufkin could see it. “I could use a nap.”

It was afternoon by the time everything was ready and the boat pushed off. Joxter’s nap was cut short so he could help papa direct and steer the boat back towards the valley. The day grew hotter hour by hour, sweat trickled down snufkin’s neck into the open collar of his shirt. Or maybe it was just him and the fever- It didn’t matter, it was suffocating. He slumped against the side of the boat, eyes closed. he was too tired in this heat to move. Someone tapped his shoulder, he ignored it. Whoever was trying to get his attention tried again, before finally putting a cold mug in his hand and up to his lips. Reluctantly, he raised his head to take a sip, something cold and sweet. It was followed by a piece of bread, thickly buttered and wrapped around a slice of cheese. His hand was tapped, moomin trying to get his attention.

“Are you okay?” he shook his head no, he didn’t have the energy to talk. “Can you eat a little? You haven’t really had much since I found you.”

No, that wasn’t right, was it? He’d had a few bites of boiled potato the night before… but that wasn’t really eating. He was queasy again, reluctant to put anything in his stomach. He wanted the juice more, draining it dry before attempting to nibble the bread. He would probably feel better with some food in him. 

He managed half of it before he had to set it aside. Between the heat and the nausea-

“More juice?” moomin tried. Snufkin nodded. That went down easier.

Snorkmaiden wetted a rag, wiped down his face and neck to cool him off. It was a little embarrassing, to be this helpless. 

“It shouldn’t be too much longer!” she chirped. “We’ll be home soon and everything will be fine!”

Home. that’d be nice. Maybe it’d be cooler there and he could breathe easier, he thought hazily. He didn’t feel that bad right now, just numb and tired, unattached from his body. Hopefully snorkmaiden was right and they’d be home soon…

He woke up coughing, hissing at the pain in his ribs. It was dark out, and his head was resting on someone’s leg. A paw rubbed his shoulder, he turned to see snorkmaiden’s face, fur almost glowing in the moonlight.

“You look better.” she smiled.

“Where are we?” he tried to sit up, pleased the world only spun around for a moment or two before settling still. 

“I’m not sure. Moominpapa said we should be home by tomorrow afternoon.” she offered him some cold tea and he drank it down quickly. He was so thirsty-

“Not so fast! You’ll throw up” she chided him, taking the cup away. “Slowly.”

“Sorry.”

She gave it back, watching carefully to make sure he wasn’t gulping it down. 

“Where’s my da-, I mean, joxter?” he held out the cup for more tea.

“Upfront, with momma and pappa. They wanted to make sure he slept too.” he could just make out the shape of his father’s shoes in the moonlight. Good, he’d… looked so worn. He’d bounce back, he always did. 

Snorkmaiden refilled his cup, momma said to let him drink as much as he wanted, even if he didn’t feel like eating. Fevers were very drying, he needed as much water back in his system as possible. He was dozing off as he sat there, trying to drink his tea, fighting to stay awake. 

“Here,” she offered her lap. He hesitated, he’d never been as close to her as moomin had been. But- his head swam. The rocking of the boat was doing him no favors, and he was tired. Her lap looked soft, like his husband’s. 

He jumped as the wind picked up, pulling at the tarp roof hard enough that one corner came loose and flapped violently- his heart jumped into his throat.  
“It’s okay, snufkin. Just the wind.” she hopped up and tied the corner back down. He was nearly as white as her fur, eyes wide. She pulled him into her arms, nuzzling his face to comfort him. He was stiff against her, his breath coming in wheezy little gasps. She hummed, knowing he could feel it, even if he couldn’t hear it. She didn’t know about the first flash flood he was swept up in, or the fear that came during storms. But with the flood and the storm, nearly drowning- she understood something was going on and he was afraid.

It took a while before he relaxed, coughing into her shoulder as he could finally get a deeper breath. 

“I hate this.” he mumbled. “It’s stupid. Being afraid of wind and rain.”

“Storms are scary,” forgetting he couldn’t see her with his head on her shoulder. She rocked him, like she would do with her brother or moomin after a bad dream about the groke. “Go to sleep, I’ll keep you safe.”

He didn’t mean to sleep, he wanted to… he wanted to… but her paws were rubbing his back and his head was hurting- he closed his eyes for what felt like a moment and then it was morning.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> get the kleenex out.

His head felt clearer after a night of sleep, and he almost felt hungry. He nibbled on a stale roll and found his father at the rudder again. He looked brighter, although there was still worry in his eyes. 

“Lookit you! Walking around and all.” he reached up with his free hand, feeling his cheeks. “You still have a fever.”

“I feel better now. I slept enough. did… you get enough sleep?” he sat by the joxter, feeling a little awkward. It was still… there was still a distance between them. It was better, they were getting used to each other. But they never talked intimately. About each other’s needs, health. The future. Why worry about the future, it would come as it came. But…

“Yeah, I think mama slipped me something to help me with that. I slept like the dead-” he winced at his own words.

“Good… that’s good.” he stared at the wood of the boat for a while, picking off pieces of bread and letting them fall to the deck. The mouse kits didn’t let this opportunity for snacks go to waste, darting out to grab the crumbs from between his boots. “Dad…” he started, then let the word trail off. That word again. He looked up to the joxter, who was watching with that bright blue gaze. No wonder women fell for his father, when he looked at them like that. 

“Dad.” he tried again. “It’s about moomin…”

“Yeah?”

“If… I get sick again and don’t-”

“No, don’t say it.”

“It’s not getting better. It’s not getting worse but it’s not getting better.” he felt as if he was floating from his body as he said it, like he was going to faint.   
“You’re not going to die from this.” his father’s knuckles were turning white with the pressure of gripping the rudder. 

“Moomin will need you, please.” 

“Of course I will. Where is all this coming from?”

“I don’t know… I just...have a bad feeling.” he didn’t feel much of anything, really. Empty. Doomed.

“Look, whatever you’re feeling, it’s just your bruised brain telling you crap. It’ll go away once it heals up. Don’t… do anything permanent, okay?” his free hand gripped snufkin’s leg, like he would slip away if he let go.

“I won’t.” he rubbed his face, the water going by made him dizzy again. Made it hard to breathe. He didn’t want to hide under the tarp like a frightened kit, but it was tempting. 

There was a hard jolt as the boat ran into something, nearly knocking him off the seat. 

“Ho!” Papa cheered from the bow of the boat. “We’ve run aground!

It was true, the flood waters had dropped. Small hills were poking up out of the water, trees had lines of mud showing where the flood had crested.

“Should we push the boat into deeper water?” joxter was already standing up.

“Hmm…” he made a great show of looking over the sides of the boat, examining the depth of the water before hopping over the side. It was wasn’t even waist deep. “It’s going down too quick. We might as well carry what we can and walk the rest of the way. We’re nearly to the pass anyway.”

Everyone looked at snufkin.

“Papa…” mama started.

“I’ll be okay.” snufkin lied. “I feel alot better today.”

No one believed him, he could tell, but no one argued with it.

Supplies were gathered up, snufkin shouldered his guitar and tucked the mousewife and her kits in his shirt pocket. Little My made herself a little raft out of the teapot, gleefully rowing on ahead of them. 

There was a… a brief moment of panic as he slipped over the side of the boat into the water. Expecting it to go over his head, into his mouth and nose- but it was barely waist-deep on him. He steadied himself, and accepted a bag handed down by snorkmaiden. 

“It’s not too heavy, is it?” moomin asked, touching his shoulder. 

“It’s fine.” he gave him a wan smile, knowing it was a lie. But maybe if he said it enough, it would be true. 

Even with the flooding, the landscape was looking more and more familiar. The boulder with the hole in it, the silk-pom pom tree in full bloom. The water went from knee-deep to ankle deep, though the mud underneath kept threatening to suck his boots off. It was difficult going, made worse by the mid-day sun and the soupyness of the air. 

Soon, he told himself, smothering a coughing fit into his sleeve. Soon they’d be home.

He couldn’t keep up even with the easy pace of the Moomin family, breath burning in his chest. Sweat dripped down his face, soaking into his collar and shirt. Slowly, he fell further and further behind the group-

Everything shrunk down to a focused point. Keep on his feet, keep walking. Ignore when the world wobbled and swam. One foot in front of the other. Keep breathing, muffle the coughing, he didn’t need the attention, the fussing… 

Moomin glanced over his shoulder again, trying to keep an eye on snufkin. He’d been slowly falling behind all afternoon- his head was down, hat covering his face. So he dropped back to his side, put a paw on his shoulder- and just barely caught him as he stumbled. His hat fell off, revealing his pale face, flushed with fever. His breathing sounded worse, a coarse wheeze that rattled. 

“Snufkin!” he guided him down to the swampy ground, he was slick with sweat. His spouse didn’t put up much resistance, leaning heavily against him. The family noticed the two had stopped and came over to help. There was still some cold tea left in a thermos, moomin took it and gave it to snufkin to drink. It seemed to bring him out of whatever dreamstate he’d put himself in, blinking at the family looking down at him. 

“‘M okay.” he mumbled, trying to get to his feet. “We’re almost there.”

“No, sit. You need to rest for a moment.” he looked uneasily at his mother. She frowned, wetting a corner of her apron with some of the tea and wiping his face down. It’d be better if she could get him home, where hopefully her medicines and herbs were still safe in their jars. But snufkin was getting weaker- oh they couldn’t leave him out here. Moomin looked at her.

“I can carry him on my back the rest of the way.”

“That might be the best idea.” every time she thought he might have fought off the fever, it returned. This traveling, sleeping out in the open boat had not helped. 

“I don’t need to be carried…” he slurred, stubborn in his delirium. He struggled against moomin for a few moments, before a coughing fit took the wind out of him. Moomin picked him up and carried him easily, he was frighteningly light.

“Of course not, dear.” Mamma said simply, putting his hat back on his head. “A few more miles and you can go to bed.”

Snufkin mumbled, talking nonsense in his feverish state, but at least did not try to fight against moomin. 

Hitting the crest of the hill and seeing that blue house still standing there- hope and joy filled moomin’s heart. Home! Everything would be okay!

“Snufkin, snufkin look! We’re almost there!”

“Hey… look at that.” he said softly, half-dreaming. “Pretty.”

“It’s home!”

“Home…” he coughed. “home.”

The mud wasn’t as bad as they had feared, although momma’s garden was a loss. Upholstery on the chairs needed washed, the furniture needed uprighting and arranged. Pappa and joxter went to work taking everything out of the house so it could be cleaned. The mousewife went to explore an overturned planter, considering it for her new home. Little My was nowhere to be seen, but she was sure to be home when she was ready. Moomin put a blanket down in the shady part of the yard where the grass was thick and soft, and settled snufkin against the trunk of a tree. 

“There we go.” he smoothed the sweaty hair out of his face, cupping his cheek. “I’ll make you more tea.”

“Thank you moomin.” he murmured, looking up at the sky through the leaves. “‘S good to be home.”

Moomin came back a few minutes later with the tea and more medicine. Joxter was there with snufkin, his son cradled against his chest. He looked… grey. Not snufkin, but joxter, he looked washed out and grey in a way. This had been hard on his father-in-law, more than moomin had realized He’d seen snufkin be a bit feverish, but not like this. 

Without thinking, he checked joxter’s temperature. Cool and dry, just tired. His blue eyes opened. 

“Making sure I haven’t caught what he’s got?”

“You don’t look all that great, papa.” he offered him the tea, wondering if he should get some of momma’s fever remedy too, just in case. Joxter smiled sadly.

“He called me dad, you know? Finally did.”

“You need to eat and sleep too.” he nuzzled joxter’s cheek. “Snufkin would be beside himself if you got sick.”

“You think he’d let me sleep in the house if I did?” he sipped the tea and grimaced. “Needs sugar.”

“We’re out of sugar, and he would let you sleep inside if you asked. You two are too much alike at times.” snufkin mumbled in his sleep, coughing without waking. “Could you get him to drink the medicine?”

“Yeah.” he gulped down the rest of the tea, sugar or not. “Any chance of dinner tonight?” moomin smiled. There we go, the ever-ready to eat joxter, he was back again. 

“Momma found apples we left in the attic, we’ll have apple pie for supper.”

“That sounds good.” he shifted snufkin against his chest.

“And get some sleep, I’ll wake you up when it’s time to eat.”

Joxter had fallen asleep with his face buried in snufkin’s hair. They both woke up easily, snufkin much more clear-eyed now that the medicine had done its work. He took moomin’s paw, unsteady and stiff as he stood up. 

“When did we get here?” he asked, helping his father up.

“You don’t remember?”

“Not really. Sort of- like I dreamed it?” he accepted moomin’s paw, walking with him into the house. He was still flushed, but not as bad as before, and he could stay, more or less on his feet. His breathing still sounded terrible, winded by the time they walked to the table. 

“Are you hungry?”

“No, but I’ll try.” he rubbed at his neck, frowning. “I’d really like a bath.”

“A bath would be good.” his own fur was itchy. A good civilized bath and to sleep in a real bed.

Snufkin really tried to eat. He nibbled at his pie, but his head sank lower and lower as the meal went on, just not having the energy or breath for it. 

“I’m sorry everyone-” moomin finally said. He hated to be rude, but- “we’re going to clean up and go to bed early.

“Fine idea, son!” pappa declared. “We should all have an early night, and sleep in!”

“I’ll bring up some medicine after your baths, my dears. Extra dressing gowns in the linen closet.”

Snufkin needed moomin’s help getting undressed, propping himself on the side of the sink to help steady himself. His husband ran the hot water into the bath.

“Hey, peppermint bath salts-”

“You don’t have to-”

“I’m putting them in.” he spilled a large pawful into the water, filling the air with a comforting smell. His chest eased, feeling even better as he slipped into the water.

“Don’t fall asleep in there.”

“Mm.” he closed his eyes, breathing in the minty scent as moomin poured warm water over his head. This was bliss, better then he dreamed of. Soaping off the sweaty grime of the last week., wrapping up in a fresh pair of pajamas. He settled by the tub as moomin took his turn, scrubbing and brushing his fur free of mud until he was pearly white again. 

“Are you falling asleep?” moomin asked him as he brushed out his tail.

“Mmm.” he straightened up, he had started to lean to one side. “A little.” he was warm, his limbs felt heavy and tired. A coughing fit came over him, gunk breaking loose in his chest and coming up. It came up dark red in his hand. 

He stared at it for a moment before quickly wiping it away. Moomin didn’t need to see that, he had enough to worry about. 

“Are you two done in there?” snorkmaiden knocked on the door. “It’s my turn!”

“Almost!” moomin yelled back. Snufkin tilted his head. “Snorkmaiden is waiting for the bathroom.”

“Oh.” he managed to stand up on his own, without wobbling too much. 

She smiled at them when they opened the door, releasing a cloud of scented steam. 

“Ahh, I can’t wait-” she sighed happily. “Thank you.”

True to her word, moominmamma brought more of the bitter medicine to snufkin, checked his temperature and lungs. 

“It feels looser after the bath.” he coughed again, hoping he wouldn’t cough anything red up again. With any luck he’d wake up just fine in the morning, they could go back to the cottage again and life would be as it was. He was lying to himself, but it was all he had. To believe he would be okay and everything would go back to normal. 

“Good, we the mucus in your lungs to come up and out. If you get tight again, maybe another bath will help. Now…” she tucked both of them into bed. “Goodnight my sweeties.”

His sleep was terrible, interrupted by coughing fits all night. He managed to sleep towards dawn, waking up to an empty bed. 

Ug, if he wasn’t going to sleep, he might as well be up. And… well it was a little lonely to be by himself, he realized. 

He got up, then tripped over his father who had been sleeping on the floor next to the bed. 

“Ey-” the joxter grumbled. “What are you doing up?”

“What are you doing here?” he rubbed his sore ribs, coughing. 

“Moomin and papa went to see how your house held up.” he helped snufkin to his feet, holding him steady by the waist. “Back to bed with you.”

“No, I’m going downstairs. I’m not going to spend all day in bed.” he said, stubbornly. he’d go loopier then he already was stuck in one tiny room. 

“Fine then.” his father grumbled, but helped him down the stairs anyway. 

Snufkin was out of breath half way through, needing to sit down to rest. This was terrible. But he pushed through it, shaking by the time he made it to the kitchen table. Mamma exchanged looks with joxter and sighed, wiping her paws on her apron. She’d made some vegetable broth and thickened it with an egg and butter for him, figuring it would be less tiring for him to eat. He accepted it quietly, sipping at it. All those stairs… he wouldn’t be going back up there unless he had to. How was he going to get back to his cottage?

Mamma replaced the empty mug of broth with tea and dosed him with the medicine. This normality helped. Joxter looked more relaxed, eating down an enormous piece of pie. It looked good, maybe he’d try to eat one too-

He coughed, wiped his mouth then coughed again until there were sparkles of white on the edges of his vision. Finally he sucked in a deep breath, willing for the world to steady. Someone’s paws where on his shoulder, someone handed him the tea to drink. 

There was red all over his hand from his coughing. 

“How long?” she asked, wiping his hands and mouth clean with a wet rag. 

“I don’t know… yesterday?” be barely remembered much before dinner the night before. Hopefully that had been the night before- his sense of time was unreliable when he had a fever. 

“It might just be the lung infection.” Mamma frowned, like she wasn’t sure, “or from the coughing.”

He took a drink of tea, trying to get the taste of blood out of his mouth. It was… he rubbed at his eyes, trying not to let tears come out. They came much too easily lately. He just wanted to go back to normal, to stop being sick and weak…

“Let’s get you on the couch.” joxter took his arm, blinking as snufkin jerked it away. 

“I can get up on my own!” he stood up, much too quickly and nearly collapsing as the world spun. His father caught him and he fought to push him away.   
“Joxter, let him.” momma said quietly. He stepped back, letting snufkin cling to the table until the room steadied and his legs felt strong enough to take him. Slowly, using the wall to help keep him upright, he made it to the living room and to the somewhat still muddy couch. 

Moomin found him there, curled up with his back to the room later that day. He ran his paw through snufkin’s hair, admiring how shaggy it had gotten. Snufkin reluctantly glanced up, giving a weak smile when he saw him. 

“Our house is in one piece! We got the floors washed off.”

“Good.” snufkin murmured, sitting up, moving as if he was made of lead. He stared at his hands, head hung low. 

“What’s wrong?” then sighed to himself. He tilted his spouse’s head up towards him. “Love, what’s wrong?”

“I… don’t have the breath to sing or play the harmonica anymore.” moomin’s heart sunk. “I can’t hear to play music, I can’t walk across the room without falling over…” he had to stop to take a breath between words. “I can’t even walk to our house on my own.” his voice broke, he covered his face. He was… broken. Useless. Trapped in his own failing body. He started coughing again, the fit shaking him for several long minutes until he could finally take a gasping breath. His sleeve, used to muffle it was red again. 

Moomin was quiet for a long moment, before pulling him close and nuzzling his cheek. It was hard to see him like this. Knowing that snufkin was such a traveler, that he was here partly because it’d become too difficult for him to explore. And he loved him so much, everything in him sung with his love for snufkin. He loved snufkin’s music, but he didn’t love him for it. He loved every inch of snufkin’s body, but he didn’t love him because of it. He just… love snufkin. 

He turned his shoulders so they were facing each other, said it slowly so there was no mistake. 

“You promised, when we got married, to not go where I can’t follow.” snufkin’s face crumpled. “Wherever you go, I will follow.” he stroked his face, smoothing hair out of his face. “I’ll carry you home and find a way so we can still dance.”

His lover sobbed, great gasping things that shook his thin shoulders so hard moomin thought he’d break. he gathered him to his chest, holding him tightly. Momma looked in from the doorway, her long face wrinkled with worry. It was grief, and moomin shared in it. Loss of things that they could have done, would have done. Maybe he would recover and things would be as they were, and maybe snufkin would… no, things could never be as they were, because they were different people now. They had grown and changed, for better or for worse. 

He hadn’t the strength to keep up the sobbing, it died down into coughs and wheezes. He waited until he pulled away to let him go. 

“Moomin?” he asked, wiping his face with his sleeve. “When did you grow up?”

The first time he thought snufkin might die? When he realized that he could not- not without him. Life would be so much more empty without his love. 

“No more talk of dying, snufkin.” he said, quietly. “There is nothing so bad we can’t find a way around. And even deaf you still play the guitar better than I do.”

He gave him a weak smile, but there was something lighter in his dark eyes. Relief? He’d been quietly grieving for his loss, trying to downplay how much it bothered him. 

“I’ll carry you home, if you want.”

“I’d like to walk home, really.” he leaned against moomin, rubbing at his face. “But I don’t think I could make it.” their eyes dropped to the blood on the cuff of his shirt. 

“I’ll put the bed on the porch.” moomin said as he helped him up. “So you can enjoy the breeze.”

“Good.” snufkin murmured. “Let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, I hope you guys like this one! thank you all for reading and giving kudos, it's always amazing to see that people like my stuff, much less read it! I'm moving in a few days and working basically the entire time between now and then, but I'll try to update my other moomin fics at some point soon before the next one in this series goes up. thoughts, comments, threats on my life? please leave a comment!

**Author's Note:**

> ahahaha... I'm so sorry. I hope you all like it, please let me know! I've been working on this one for a couple of weeks, and it looks like the longest one of this series yet!


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